The Movement of Elk
Elvis the Elk - A 7x8 Point Bull Elk
Elvis, the king. I saw him in concert in 1977 not too long before his death. He was “All shook up,” and so was I as I sang along with every song. In 2022, I saw a different Elvis. Someone who must have been a fan of “Jail House Rock” or “Heartbreak Hotel” gave him a royal name. A 7 x 8 point elk, he was already an imperial elk on his way to being a monarch.
The first time I saw Elvis, it was June 2022, and the migration up to the tundra was just about to begin. He was grazing outside of the park along Fall River Road near Bugle Point, so appropriate. Parking in a pullout, I grabbed my camera.
Already, he was impressive. The antlers were still growing, yet you could already count eight points on his right antler, seven on his left. A point on the left antler stuck outward away from the standard growth making him uniquely identifiable. With so many points already growing, the antlers made him royalty even covered with thick, nourishing velvet.
I was excited, giddy to take the pictures of such a bold, dominant elk, his fresh summer coat smooth and beautiful. My camera’s shutter kept reacting to my excitement. I must have taken a couple of hundred images, capturing both his imposing size and magnificence.
It was mid-July while guiding a RMNPhotographer Tour up Old Fall River Road, when a saw people taking pictures near the treeline. As we watched, nearly hidden within the shrubs were three bull elk, one obviously larger than the others. As I watched the elk, the large one turned his head to pose, and I recognized the extra, angled tine. It was Elvis. He had migrated all the way from Estes Park to near the top of Old Fall River Road.
A month later, on my August birthday, I was about halfway up Old Fall River Road with another RMNPhotographer Tour when we encountered an elk jam. As the cars moved at a crawl, I knew it was something worth seeing. Pulling over, we stepped from the car to watch three bull elk.
There, in all his imperial royalty, stood Elvis. His antlers had shed their velvet, and he was at his dynamic best. With the rut approaching, his chest was full, his mane dark brown, and his antlers still a bit reddish from the recent shedding of the velvet. He was a beautiful elk to capture with my camera.
Two days later, I was in an open field of willows at 10,700 ft. when I pointed out to our guests two nice elk. I explained that two days prior, they had been with Elvis, a large elk that posed well for photos. I told them to watch because Elvis was likely nearby.
Then, as if he were a collaborator to give the impression I was some sort of incredible guide, Elvis appeared from the taller willows. So big and bold, my guests gasped as he strode to join the other two bulls. Dynamic in his presence, handsome in his summer coat and thick, sharp antlers, I knew he would be a presence during the elk rut.
It was a week later at sunrise when I was out in RMNP with my camera. There, crossing an open meadow at 8,000 ft. was a small group of bull elk. Still friends as their hormones were just beginning to erupt, they strode across the meadow toward a pond.
I had my 600mm prime lens with a 2x extender attached bringing it to 1200mm. My tripod held it steady as I focused on the largest of the bulls. It was easy to spot, the unique tine pointing outward. I smiled as I pushed the shutter button. Elvis.
In the middle of September, I got a call from a photographer friend. “I’m at the golf course behind the visitor center,” he told me. “Elvis is here with a harem.” I jumped in my SUV and headed through town.
Arriving, Elvis was working a harem of twenty or so cow elk, moving, corralling them, only stopping to let out a powerful, intimidating bugle. He was literally “a hunk, a hunk of burning love.”
He had come full circle migrating from 7500 ft to nearly 12,000 ft and back down for the fall rut by Lake Estes. He was an impressive elk, willing to fight for his harem, and the cows must have been attracted as they stayed close.
Astonished, I watched and photographed, but it was his bugle that captured my imagination. Loud and pronounced, was he actually singing to the cow elk, “I can’t help falling in love with you.”
